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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158597">the world looks so much brighter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron'>colazitron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>2020 December Prompts [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Druck | SKAM (Germany)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Fluff and Angst, M/M, but really only very little</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:01:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Matteo has no idea why David kissed him like that.</p><p>Enemies (idiots) to lovers PT II</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matteo Florenzi/David Schreibner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>2020 December Prompts [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the world looks so much brighter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Technically follows "another beginning's end", picking up right where that left of. You can just go with it, but it'll also make more sense maybe if you check that out first.</p><p>For the numerous people who wanted a sequel and especially the two Tumblr anons who actually prompted it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Matteo stumbles into the kitchen, barely avoiding knocking his elbow on the door frame, and then stands there, feeling like he needs to catch his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What. The fuck. Was that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets his gaze sweep over the kitchen, knows he came in here for </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Probably beer? He can’t stomach the idea of drinking it right now though, so he grabs himself a glass of cold water instead and slinks away into his room, closing the door behind himself. He rounds his bed and then sinks down onto the floor beside it, leaning against the side half slouched in a way he knows will hide him to anyone looking into the room. It feels silly, but it also makes his heartrate calm down enough that he can take a sip of the cold water without his hand shaking quite so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling out his phone with his free hand, he swipes open the conversation with Jonas and sends him a quick message that he’s not feeling well and won’t rejoin the party. In exchange for details later, Matteo knows Jonas is going to let him get away with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo drinks his water and then peels out of his jeans, slinking into his bed and under the duvet. He can hear the party still going on through the door to his bedroom, but he’s asleep in minutes anway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jonas crawls into bed beside him, it’s quiet outside in the apartment, and still dark outside, so Matteo has no idea how much time has passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better tell me everything tomorrow, Luigi,” he mumbles, somehow apparently sensing that Matteo’s awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo grumbles quietly and snuggles deeper under the duvet, but he knows he’s going to. If he doesn’t talk to Jonas, he’ll probably end up screaming into his pillow, or smoking too many joints. Neither of those, he knows, are all that healthy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, so why exactly is that kiss throwing you off so much?” Jonas asks, spreading liberal amounts of jam on his crepe. “I thought you guys hook up all the time. You do the whole Pretty Woman no kissing thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No,” Matteo says, watching with somewhat fascinated horror as Jonas crams about half the crepe into his mouth in one go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what?” Jonas asks, though it comes out more like “eh-wha?”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo shrinks back against the wall at the head of his bed and sighs. “We just don’t… kiss like that. All sweet and mushy and shit. And he called me ‘Matteo’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonas swallows and swings his fork around as though it’ll underscore his point. “Dude, that’s your name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s called me anything but my last name. Like, ever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, even the first time?” Jonas asks, eyes wide and brows high on his forehead. “Brutal, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo squirms. “No, fine, not the first time. But ever since. He hates my guts, you know that. I just don’t get why he’s doing this now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he’s changed his mind,” Jonas suggests. “Maybe he realised he’s been a colossal ass and that you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span> piece of ass, and he could be tapping this on the reg if he weren’t such a colossal ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo rolls his eyes. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious!” Jonas insists. “He’s really not so bad, most of the time. I don’t get why the two of you can’t get along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he hates my guts,” Matteo helpfully points out. “And because he’s an arrogant jerk who thinks he’s better than everyone else just because he’s doing some weird humanities degree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you know it’s film,” Jonas says. “And I don’t think that’s a humanities degree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Matteo groans. “He’s a stuck-up, pseudo-intellectual </span>
  <em>
    <span>dick</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I don’t care if he’s doing film or humanities.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Problem is, Matteo does care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo cares kind of a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time they’d hooked up - the very first time - Matteo had figured maybe it’d been a weird sort of gratitude thing, since Matteo had kicked that dude out of the party. He hadn’t known about how personally affected David might have been by what he’d been saying - just heard some grade A bullshit and run out of patience. But then when they’d spoken for all of twenty-five minutes before David had leaned in and kissed him, Matteo had been flattered and… </span>
  <em>
    <span>interested</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At the time he’d figured David had been genuinely into him. It’d only been later, when David had snuck out and then returned to the next party to talk about how stupid people who liked the MCU movies were that Matteo had realised David hadn’t been into him at all. He’d wanted a quick hook-up and probably thought Matteo was his safest bet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t even really blame him. He’d heard enough statistics from Hans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still. It hurt, a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it also doesn’t at all explain why David kept coming back for more. Why they’d gravitated to each other like charged magnets, all heat and pull until they were spent and started repelling each other again. It’d actually been a bit of a relief when David had stopped seeking him out a few weeks ago. Matteo had always known David would lose interest at some point. They’d obviously reached that point. Weird as it’s been, at least Matteo can close this chapter of his life now. Move on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then why? Why that kiss that made Matteo feel like… like spun sugar. Sweet and fragile and delicate. Like David wanted to consume all of him and didn’t dare touch him at the same time, for fear of ruining something. Why make Matteo feel like that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonas is no help, of course, and neither is Hans, when Matteo asks him later. Vicky just tells him to get back to hooking up as it’s way less complicated. He doesn’t know what’s going between her and Mia these days, but he bets from the expression on her face that it’s the very opposite of uncomplicated. (He’s pretty sure hooking up has something to do with those complications, but he daren’t voice that to her when she’s already got that look on.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Hans tells him David will be coming over for the New Year’s Eve party, Matteo considers locking himself in his room, but he knows his friends won’t let him get away with that. And they’ll all be here, so he can’t even claim to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to attend some other party. He could always hide out at his mum’s place, but if he doesn’t tell her why he’s there, she’s going to think she’s keeping him from being with his friends and she’ll feel guilty for it no matter what he tells her. And if he does tell her the whole sad story about David, she’s going to tell him to stop being such a baby and either talk to the boy or forget about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo really doesn’t want to do either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too bad then that David seems hell-bent on it. He’s barely said hello to everyone before he circles back around to Matteo, taking him by the elbow gently like he’s worried Matteo’s going to bolt (he might), but also doesn’t want to be too rough with him. Not the way he used to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo nods numbly, because it feels like an incredibly childish move to deny David, and also he really doesn’t fancy the hours of awkwardness that would ensue. So he leads David through to his room and then outside onto his balcony. It gives him the illusion of having a lot more space between them than they do, simply by letting Matteo breathe the cold, clear air outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David looks out into the street, eyes following a few stragglers here and there, and it takes Matteo a moment to realise that he’s stalling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you want to talk?” he prompts, because he’s feeling uncharitable, and kind of cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shrinks a little, but turns to him again. “Yeah, I just… don’t know where to start, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo shrugs. “Again, you’re the one that wanted to talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David sighs. “I just don’t want to do the weird animosity thing anymore, okay?” he finally says. “Can we, like, just put that behind us? New year, clean slate? That sort of thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo snorts a laugh and can’t help rolling his eyes. He can tell how it makes David tense in annoyance, but, seriously?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Yeah, we can do that. No worries,” he says. “You don’t have to think about anything at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” David asks, quick to anger as always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo raises a condescending eyebrow at him and leans back against the balcony’s railing. “Just that you don’t have to worry. You can go back to lecturing us all about how dumb we are for not being into dull, four-hour movies, and I won’t even say a peep about it. I’m tired of it too, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” David says derisively. “I’d forgotten that the only valid form of film is entertainment and the only valid form of entertainment is explosions and quippy one-liners. So sorry for trying to tells stories that have meaning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because it’s not buried under six feet of metaphor doesn’t mean a film doesn’t have meaning!” Matteo argues, matching David for intensity in the first time in a while. They never actually got into this verbally, just used to take it out on each other in different ways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you’d bother to think about anything in between your popcorn,” David says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you seriously saying I can’t enjoy a film while also eating popcorn? Wow, and here I thought you had to be smart to get into uni.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not at all--- ugh!” David all-but-yelled, throwing his hands up. “This is why you’re so infuriating, you know? You think you’re better than everyone just because you’re not in school, like wanting to learn something is some sort of childish thing. Well, newsflash---”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?" Matteo cuts him off. “I don’t give a shit whether someone wants to get a PhD or drop out and get into trade school. What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> care about is pretentious douchebags who think they’re the only ones who’ve ever had a critical thought before just because they can parrot some text book about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David blinks at him, clearly stunned, and then asks, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” sounding, perhaps, even angrier than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo simply gestures at all of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me?” David asks, voice heavy with disbelief. “I don’t think I’m better than anyone, except maybe the people who keep bothering me about ‘not getting a real degree’ and how I should just file for unemployment right away, and don’t I have anything better to do with my life, like studying fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>business</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo snorts an involuntary laugh at the derision with which David mentions business students. Those do tend to be douchebags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you definitely think you’re better than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I literally don’t,” David says. “I just don’t like the way you’re lording your life choices over everyone just because they’re different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, I’m just teasing,” Matteo says, baffled. “Those are my friends. They know that. And they--- look, there’s just some personal shit for me going on that doesn’t put me and uni on the best of terms, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David bit his lip and looked away, shoulders curling upward a little. He resolutely tried to hypnotise Matteo’s knees when he spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I. I overheard you and Jonas a couple weeks ago. Something about your dad? And it sounds like he’s a dick, but I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Matteo cuts him off, feelings his whole head flush with heat at the embarrassment. David had </span>
  <em>
    <span>heard</span>
  </em>
  <span> all that? “So what, you kiss me out of pity because no one else is doing it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” David asks, and then shakes his head. “No! I kissed you because, I don’t know! It reminded me I don’t even know you at all, really, and once upon a time I kind of did want to get to know you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo just stares, floored by the confession. That does not sound like a weird gratitude thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I still want to,” David tacks on, quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shut me up not even half an hour into talking to me and then snuck out the next day,” Matteo points out. “Like, fair enough, but that doesn’t exactly scream wanting to get to know someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shrugs. “I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. You didn’t exactly put up a fight the night before. And by the time I realised I kind of wanted your number, I was already home and… well. I just figured that’s that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So then why did you come back?” Matteo asks, curious now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, a lot of these guys are my friends too,” he said. “They invited me. And I hoped I’d see you again, I guess. But then you were so high and mighty about having a job and not needing a degree and like… great for you, really. But some of us like learning. And some of us </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> a degree to have any hopes for a job they’d like to do even a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I totally get it,” Matteo says. “I’m not-- that’s not what I ever meant to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence falls between them until David huffs half a laugh. His shoulders slump a little, relaxation spreading through his body in a way Matteo only ever usually sees when David forgets to run away right after an orgasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, basically, we’re both idiots,” David suggests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo grins at him weakly. “Seems like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David hums and looks away again, back out at the street. Matteo can see him bite down on a grin, and decides to step forward, until he’s hovering just on the edge of David’s personal bubble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, I’m Matteo,” he says, ignoring the way his heart pounds in his chest. “I think you’re pretty cute and I kind of want to get to know you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David stares at him, surprise the only emotion on his face until it slowly morphs into an almost-shy smile. It’s sweet and a little fragile, just like that kiss had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Matteo,” he says. “I’m David. I’d like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>The End</b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Idk if that's how electromagnets work tbh. Sorry.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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